


(see diagram)

by saltyfeathers



Series: Frivolity is the Spice of Life [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Sexual Humor, but not really, well kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-02
Updated: 2013-09-02
Packaged: 2017-12-25 10:31:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/952032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltyfeathers/pseuds/saltyfeathers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Cas are doing... something. Sam overhears.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(see diagram)

**Author's Note:**

> this is an old tumblr ficlet, but it's from a now defunct blog, meaning I may as well post it here.

Sam thought it was just him and Dean in the bunker, but when he walks past Dean’s closed bedroom door, he hears a voice that is most definitely not Dean’s say, testily, “I’m  _trying_ , Dean. It won’t fit.”

Sam freezes, feels his eyes widen. That voice belongs to Cas.

"Try harder," comes Dean’s voice, breathing heavily. There’s a thump, and Sam winces. "Jesus Christ, Cas, you can read every language in the world and you can’t understand  _this_? It’s simple stuff.”

"By all means, feel free to try inserting it yourself, Dean, if it’s so  _simple_.” is Cas’ snippy reply. 

"Just- I dunno, use your angel strength to pry it open a little bit more. I am not leaving this half done, Cas. I’ve been waiting long enough for this as it is."

Oh god.

Sam should leave. Sam should leave  _now_. there is no way in hell- and Sam would know- that he’s sticking around to listen to his brother and his brother's boyfriend try and work out the mechanics of sex between a human dude and a multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent that somehow has managed to squeeze itself into a human dude. Nope. No way.

And yet, some terrible, morbid, revolting part of Sam- the part that allows people to stick around after a car crash just to see the carnage that’s pretty much a universal human trait- is rooting Sam to the spot, even though his face is flaming and a large part of him currently wants to go apple bobbing in bleach. 

"Dean," Cas says in that patiently impatient way that is a creation all Castiel’s own, "by doing that, i’m going to weaken the integrity of the whole structure. You don’t want to suddenly collapse, do you?"

What the fuck.

"Yeah, well, maybe i’m willing to take that chance. C’mon, Cas, I already haven’t been able to sit down for days. I want this _now_.”

If an onlooker was watching Sam be an even creepier onlooker, they would assume Sam had just swallowed a whole lemon with the face he was making.

"Dean, this should be done right. With the proper consideration and contemplation."

"What?" dean squawks. "Cas, it ain’t rocket science. Point a, point b. Just slide it in. Lube it up with angel mojo if you have to. Just  _get it in there_.”

Sam dry heaves, but that doesn’t stop him from almost hearing Cas’ eye roll.

"Very well, Dean. But just remember that if you end up sprawled on the floor with a twisted pelvis, it isn’t my fault."

This is way  _way_  more than Sam ever wanted to know about Cas and Dean- especially Dean. He’d walked in on his brother in various sexual positions in various …  _costumes_  too many times over the years, and yet he would never get used to it. Ever.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Let ‘er rip, angel boy."

Time to go. It’s totally time to go.

There’s a grunt from behind the door, a quiet curse, and then Dean whoops.

"Aw yeah, baby! Bottomed right out! Way to go, dude!"

And now Sam’s face is absolutely scorching, not only with his own embarrassment, but with secondhand embarrassment, because apparently Dean’s version of sexual encouragement is treating Cas like he just learned how to ride a bike without the training wheels.

"See, Cas?" Dean crows. "We didn’t need a guide. Just perseverance and creativity." 

"Now," Dean continues, "there’s one more opening right… here. So i say we just forget the diagrams completely and head straight for the angel lube, whaddya say?"

Cas’ sigh is long-suffering, but he seems to give his assent.

"I just hope that when all is said and done, Dean, you understand why I suggested the use of the stool instead."

The… the  _stool_?

Sam’s brain stutters, stops, and then picks up again, from zero to sixty in oh-point-two.

No. No.No way. Nononono. Nope.

Car crash or fucking not, Sam is basically running full speed down the hallway to get away from this conversation, and hopefully leave the memory of it behind as well. Nevertheless, he still turns the water in the shower as hot as it will go, and stays in there long enough to wash off the stench of that whole scene.

And he glares at the toilet the whole time he’s toweling off.

***

Meanwhile, on the other side of the bedroom door, Dean stares proudly at the mess he and Castiel finally managed to clean up. The goddam rolling desk chair from Ikea had been a bitch to build, but they figured it out eventually. Even for an angel of the lord, the diagrams for building furniture were somewhat of a tall order. With a little prodding, and a little heavenburger helper, however, they managed to get it done.

Dean claps Cas on the shoulder and smiles. 

"We gotta show Sam." Dean announces, and walks out into the hallway, calling his brother’s name. 

"Hey, Sam! You’ll never believe what me and Cas just did!"


End file.
